


Ambassador of Earth

by Erisandmira



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alien Tom Riddle, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Harry is not happy with the situation, Kinda?, M/M, Possessive Tom Riddle, Stockholm Syndrome, or at least trying to, taking over the earth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-17 07:16:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20617109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erisandmira/pseuds/Erisandmira
Summary: In which Tom is an alien who have come to take over the earth and Harry is a pizza delivery guy dragged into a road trip. Somewhere between horrible food, abduction and dodging federal agents, they fall in love.





	1. In which Harry has a very bad day

Life isn’t fair. Harry James Potter knew this very well. It was one of the only useful lessons his dear relatives bothered to teach him. The fact that it was a lesson that demanded little effort from them and caused him very much misery probably paid a big part in why they saw it fit to repeat it as often as possible.

Why did he have to sleep in cupboard when there was room he could use in the house? Why did he have to do so many chores while Dudley played? Why was nothing he ever did enough for them? Why? Why? Why?

Truth be told, Harry had spent a lot of time fantasizing about leaving the Dursley, he even started to work as soon as he could to save up money for a new life away from them. There was really no point in arguing over fairness when his aunt gleefully demanded he paid for living in the house the moment he received a paycheck. Nor when they kicked him out of their home as soon as he become eighteen.

It sucked, but that was life.

Now Harry worked as a pizza delivery guy for minimum wages , doing his best to pay for the shithole he lived in, and save up for college. Or something. To be honest Harry simply couldn’t stand the thought of proving his relatives right; he had to succeed in life because nothing would make them angrier. If you had nothing else, spite was a great motivation.

So, Harry plastered on a smile as three drunk teenagers tried to argue that he was late (he was not) and that meant that the pizza was free, which frankly, happened way more often then it should considering their delivery had no such police.

“Look,” one of the slurred out, “Late means free, okay? That was they said last time!”

“Yeah!” The other two yelled in unison as though they believed it would strengthen the argument or something.

Harry was getting pretty tired of this shit, not that any of that irritation made it to his voice, “As I said, our delivery service do not have that poli-“

Of course, they did not have the decency to let him finish before whining again.

“That’s not true!”

“Bullshit!”

Harry sighed, knowing he couldn’t spend the rest of the night arguing with them, “Look, if you are not paying, then you are not getting the pizza.”

Simple concept really, and yet it was meet with booing. Ugh. Harry had done enough, right? He had already wasted 15 minutes on them and there was more work to be done. Having made up his mind, Harry he turned on his heel and walked away, ignoring the venomous protests behind his back.

it was harder to ignore the bottle thrown at his head. Pressing a hand against his now aching head, Harry spun around furious. The giggling group of teenagers slammed the door shut.

Sometimes, Harry really hated his life.

* * *

"Assholes, " Ron spat out.

The corners of Harry’s lip’s twisted upwards, “You reached this conclusion from only hearing `there was these customers’?”

“Yeah, I mean customers and assholeness go hand in hand,“ Ron said as if it was the most obvious thing, then there was a loud noise followed by cursing. Harry could guess with 99 certainty that Ron was still struggling with putting together that bookshelf.

“Man, do Ikea purposely make these instructions impossible to follow?” Ron said aggregated before sheepishly adding, “Sorry. I just want to finish them before Hermione comes back. Oh, you are still coming over in the weekend, right?”

Harry was outright grinning this time, talking to Ron always made him feel better, though he would have preferred it to be in person instead of phone. He was grateful he could take contact whenever work felt difficult.

“Of course, nothing could keep me away,” 

* * *

Harry last mission for the day was to an area he had never been before. It was outside of their town on a dirt road with tall trees. The houses looked like plywood shacks and there were broken down cars and trash everywhere. The place reeked of a b-rated horror film and the fact that his destination was leading closer and closer to no man’s land wasn’t building his confidence. 

Mistake number 1 was continuing anyway.

He had seriously considered turning around as he plunged further and further into a pitch-black forest, until he finally drove into an open field. The change of scenery was appreciated, although he was surprised to see a cornfield stretching out before him. From the vantage point upon the hill leading out of the forest, Harry could see strange patterns on the cornfield.

It looked like crop circles, and while that weirded Harry out, he had seen stranger stuff delivering pizza so he didn’t think much of it.

Mistake number 2.

When he finally reached the house, and walked up to the door, no doorbell was present, so he settled on knocking hard and yelling, “Pizza!”

What he expected to happen was that some haggard looking man wearing boxers and a dirty white tank would come out. Probably grumble something mildly threating before paying for the pizza so that Harry could get the fuck out of there.

What Harry got instead was a tall, very handsome man in what seemed to be a Darth Vader getup. Honestly, that man’s attractiveness couldn’t be overstated; all dark wavy hair and gleaming eyes that would make anyone weak at the knees. Good thing Harry had already plastered on the typical service smile, for he sure didn’t know what to do with his face. God, he was looking like fool, right? Quick say something!

“Um, er, “Harry spoke eloquently, “Pizza, yeah, pizza,” to make his point he shoved the box on mister Handsome’s face.

The man raising an eyebrow, hesitantly grabbing the pizza before looking slightly mystified at Harry.

“Jgls?” The man’s voice had a dark, rich “metallic” sound to it, which almost made up for the fact that Harry had no idea what he was saying. Perhaps the man was a foreigner? Harry opened his mouth to say he didn’t understand when he heard a high-pitched voice speak up behind him.

Startled he turned around turned to investigate, but for the second time that day, he was hit hard in the head, and this time the world turned black.

* * *

As Harry began to rouse from his forced slumber, the first thing he became aware of was hard floor beneath him and the uncomfortable positioning of his limps. He bit back a groan when he realized his hands were tied behind his back, the rope digging into his skin and causing him lot of pain.

The arguing voices, in a language he was no closer to understanding, only made his cracking headache worse. Miserable, he found himself curling up in the fetal position, the language barrier increasing his fears.

Had he stumbled into a robbery? Would he be killed? Had they kept him alive just to torture him?

The more he thought about it, the more stressed he became, the more afraid he became. And yet, it was that fear that gave him the strength to ignore the pain and open his eyes to take in the situation. For a short, painful moment, the world was only blinding distorted light. The moment passed and Harry could make out the dirty living room before him.

The couch was flipped over, broken glass laid on the floor and dust clung to everything. Four terrifying presence occupied the space before Harry. The most eye-catching was the man he met at the door, who sat upon the flipped sofa with a thoughtful expression, seemingly ignoring the three arguing people before him.

Three people completely covered up in an odd looking dark metal and with-skull masks (at least, Harry prayed they were just masks). Two of them were impossibly tall and bulky, looking like bodybuilders on so much steroids that it could supply a country. The third was smaller in statue, though probably still taller than Harry, and seemed to be the one with most authority among the trio, if the way the two others were bowing their heads indicated anything. Then again, they still arguing, so Harry might be overreading it.

Moving his eyes away, Harry caught sight of something that made his stomach twist violently and vomit taste made it way up to his mouth.

In the corner opposite to him, laid three horribly mutilated bodies. A disgusting green substance was soaking the corpuses, mixing together with the blood, giving certain parts a brown appearance.

Harry couldn’t stop the sob that tore itself out of his throat. It was such a horrifying image that terrified him to his core. God, was he next?

His captures eyes snapped to him, the dark harried man the only expression he could see, and it revealed nothing. Cold eyes regarded him with bored indifference and held his attention until the shortest of them reached him and pulled him up.

Grey eyes glistering with glee was the only thing showcased by the skullmask, and it did much to convey the cruelty of the person before him. Harry’s sobs changed to whimpers as the person grip tighten to painful levels, busing working itself up to bone breaking. The giggle that followed was feminine, light and overly sweet. That- she pulled him closer, drinking in the sight of his pain.

“b€//a,” the man spoke, a hint of warning lingering in those unfamiliar words.

The woman dropped Harry immediately, causing him to fall on his knees, all strength leaving him. Harry felt terrified to the point of numbness, barely reacting when the man continued to speak, presumably ordering them to bring out some chair and drag Harry to one of them.

After watching Harry be thrown at chair, the man elegantly sat down on the one positioned across him. He carried an air of nobility, somehow not damped by the conceited expression he wore. Never had Harry felt more like an insect, than beneath that man’s gaze. A flash of anger ignited, though it was quickly stifled by how the man narrowed his eyes.

"I want you to do something for me, human", the man’s voice soared and sank in leisurely, elegant measure. A pleasant sound, even in these horrible circumstances, perhaps even more appreciated because of them.

Wait –

Harry blinked, a moment passing before he realized that he understood the words being said. The man’s speech - marked with the hint of accent, completely unlike anything Harry had heard before- was punctuated with mocking chuckle. The trio quickly joined, jeering at Harry’s confused expression.

The man continued, “You stand before the great Lord Voldemort. I have chosen to grace this planet with my presence, quite the honor, believe me. My conquest of this planet is inevitable, so, it would be prudent of you to accept me as your ruler.”

Voldemort paused, as though to give Harry a chance to respond, yet almost immediately resumed his speech.

“While it true that you humans are primitive and frankly, very inferior to me, I’m certain that I can guide you to at least serve me well.”

“Um,” Harry responded, baffled be the use of ‘you human’ and talk about planet. Has this man lost his marbles? Was Harry held captive by madmen?

Voldemort shot him a cold glare at the interruption, and Harry got the hint and shut his mouth.

Leaning back on his chair, Voldemort conjured a rather cruel smile, sending shivers down Harry’s spine.

“I have gifted you enough of my time, “ Voldemort tilted his head to the side, “I want you to take me to your leader."

Silence descended on the room. When it continued, and reached uncomfortable, Voldemort glared at Harry. Anger flashed in his eyes – red bleeding into those dark orbs, which frankly only served to stun Harry even more.

What – where they serious? Surely this had to be some kind of sick joke.

“±ÅFV,” one of the huge guys said, nothing friendly in his tone.

Voldemort snapped back, “ÕRS@.”

And that, the oddness, the feeling of not understanding what was being said, pushed Harry to take a decision.

Nervously, he managed to splutter out, “Leader as in leader of this town?”

“No, of this planet.” Voldemort said impatiently.

…okay, okay. Harry could do this, scared of saying something untruth and be confronted with it later, Harry went with, “Our…planet does not have one leader, but the leader of this country is said to be the most powerful person in this planet?”

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, which were completely red now.

_I’m dead_, Harry concluded, feeling strangely drained of fear. He was just tired, very tired.

After what seemed like an eternity, Voldemort said, “Very well,”

Harry almost collapsed in relief.

“Lead us to him then.”

“B-but, but!” Harry felt panic raise again, “He is in another state, it is very far away!”

“We shall ride the vehicle you arrived with, ours is currently unavailable.” Voldemort concluded, signaling something to his companies with an odd hand movement.

Harry, on the other side, was gasping in horror at the thought of transporting these maniacs across the country on his pizza delivery truck, but one look at the corpses stopped him from voicing his protests.

The whole situation managed to reach an even higher level of absurdity when one of the bulky ones walked to the corpuses and, Harry kid you not, _swallowed _them. Harry was not ashamed to admit that the sight of the skull mask expanding and opening a mouth, was too much for him.

So, he fainted.


	2. Chapter 2

“_Mr. President!”_

_“What are your plans for t-“_

_“Is it true that-“ another overeager journalist pushed his way forward, almost stepping over a fallen carmen, “Are you really pulling our tropes out?”_

_“Now, now. I’ll answer all your questions, so there are no need for sneaking, “ President Albus Dumbledore calmly chided the impatient journalist, his bright blue eyes was sparkling behind those half-moon spectacles when he continued, “Nothing pleases me more than to speak of peace, and I sure-“_

Suddenly an odd cannon-like sound resounded; multiple glowing green bullet whistled right in front of Harry, melting the wall they hit. A second round tore away the two next walls, thus giving the house a new exit.

Not for the first time that day, Harry felt a wave of horror wash through him. That- that was not something one could pick on the store, any store here on earth. Further proof that this was _real_. God, he was trapped with aliens. Wall-wrecking, human eating aliens.

Voldemort’s fingers dug painfully into his shoulder, causing Harry to whimper out an apology and hastily straighten the mobile screen. Pleased, Voldemort’s hand slid down to Harry’s knees, his thumb gently rubbing Harry’s leg in an almost soothing motion.

Normally, Harry spending his evening sitting on the lap to handsome man would be very pleasant. It was not the case however, when said handsome man was an alien bent on conquering the earth and Harry was possibly commenting treason by showing him videos of the president.

Then again, it was not like he had any choice. The moment he woke up after fainting, that odd wall-melting weapon had been pressed against his face, and Voldemort had coldly told him that he had one chance to give them a reason to spare him. Without any hint of shame, Harry had offered images of their target, the leader of this country. 

On the other hand, why Voldemort felt it necessary to have Harry on his lap while views said images was not something Harry had an explanation for.

A shiver traveled up Harry’s spine, sparking fear and something else in every inch of him, when Voldemort leaned closer to rest his chin upon Harry’s shoulder. Voldemort tilted his head and fixated his gaze on Harry. His warm breath tickled Harry’s, making him painfully aware of how close they were. Apparently mixing up the danger signals with attraction signals, his body betrayed him by flushing up under the alien’s attention.

“You have proven yourself useful,“ Voldemort purred out, the corners of his lips arched into a sinister smile.

Rather belatedly, Harry noticed that the video ended, which at least explained why the alien had shifted his attention to him. He tried to return the smile, but suspected his expression resembled a constipated grimace, if anything.

“I’m glad to help,” Harry said in as steady a voice as he could muster.

Voldemort appeared amused by Harry’s words, eyeing him as one might do a particular charming dog. A very fitting comparison, it would seem, for Voldemort proceeded to lift his hand to stroked Harry’s messy hair. He then turned to his companions and began giving out what sounded like commands in that odd – alien language, all while still petting Harry.

Harry could help marveling over how unreal this all seemed, but at the same time he felt very relieved that he hadn’t been brutally murdered yet. Now, if he could only keep it that way until he managed to reach some sort of government agent – perhaps the CIA – he might be able to put this whole thing behind him.

Unless of course, more aliens showed up and this was only the beginning of invasion that would leave the world in ruins. If that was the case, Harry had very, very little to look forward. He swallowed hard, as the images of Hermione and Ron’s mutilated bodies flashed before his mind, and thought resolutely; No, he would not let that happened.

The strong desire to protect his friends gave him strength to hold his chin high when Voldemort pulled him up with him. There was greater thing to fear then his own death, especially since Voldemort and his crew had already proved themselves to be a great threat to humanity.

Voldemort turned his attention back to Harry, blood-red eyes bore into him, and said in very haughty manner, “Let us commence.” 

* * *

Maybe, once the fear had completely subsided and the danger had been averted, Harry would find some humor in the fact that he was carrying proof that extraterrestrial intelligence existed in his pizza delivery trunk. Three of the four scientifically interesting lifeforms were even enthusiastically munching down pizza, thus proving that it really was a universally loved meal. If Harry survived this he might send a letter to the owner of this pizza chain and tell him that the motto ‘Everyone loves pizza; especially ours’ was absolutely right.

Also, his relatives would not doubt be both horrified and thrilled to hear that he was aiding a terrorist attack on their country – world perhaps too. So he would strive to keep the news from them.

The three minions behind them were making lot of ruckus, pushing each other and yelling out things that Voldemort – who sat in the front with him- took the time to translate. One might think the handsome alien was doing this because he didn’t want Harry to feel excluded, but one look at his smirk would quickly reveal that he took joy in watching Harry tense up fear.

Voldemort’s chuckle was soft and his dark gaze mocked Harry when he translated the newest statement, “They wonder if we should hang that wrinkled leader with his ridiculously long beard or drown him in a pool of his children’s blood.”

“He doesn’t have children,” Harry said through gritted teeth, feeling rather sick of listening to ideas on how to best kill the president. Really, Harry could do without the constant reminders that the creatures he was driving were not only murders, but planned to commit more.

“As amusing as your discomfort is, “ Voldemort shamelessly admitted, “it’s also extremely inappropriate considering you have sworn yourself to me. From now on, only display distress over the thought of my demise, understand?”

Harry shot him a bewildered look, momentarily stunned by the magnitude of arrogance in that statement. Voldemort arched an eyebrow in an expecting manner, and Harry could only turn his eyes back to the road to avoid revealing more doubt.

It felt like a blessing when he spotted a gas station not far ahead. He explained to Voldemort that it was a facility that sold fuel and engine lubricants for motor vehicles, which they would need to make the long journey to the capitol, where the president was. Voldemort accepted this explanation and gave him permission to stop there. Harry bit his lip to hid how happy this made him. He could contact help!

He was trembling when he filled up the trunk oil while Voldemort’s eyes stayed fixated on him, watching, waiting -

The alien smiled sinisterly when Harry told him he had to go inside the store to pay.

“Of course, go ahead, “ Voldemort said, his eyes gleaming with secret amusement.

“T-thanks,” Harry for some reason said, he even bowed his head slightly! He really need to put some distance between them lest he starts calling the alien master or something.

Harry almost broke into a sprint the moment he turned his back on Voldemort and the trunk, making his way to the store as faster as he could without looking like he was fleeing. When he stepped inside, a semblance of security fall over him, and he felt his breathing became easier.

With a much clearer mind, he started to wonder, what now? It was not like he knew the phone number to the CIA and he sincerely doubts anything he could say through a phone would convince the police that aliens where here on earth. And considering said aliens were still carrying wall-melting weapons, not properly explaining the situation would put the cops at great risk if he still managed to make them show up.

Maybe he could just sneak out the backdoor and formulate a better plan when he was safe? Or should he try t-

“Is something troubling you?” A soothe voice whispered into his ear, and Harry jumped up in fear.

Voldemort smirked when Harry turned around, obviously enjoying the fear he caused. Harry started to stutter out incomprehensive blabbering, not understanding how the alien had sneaked up on in.

Voldemort’s amusement was cut short when they both heard a cheerful voice call out, “Harry! What are you doing here?”

Dean Thomas, an old classmate that Harry hadn’t seen for years, walked towards them. He was smiling so brightly Harry felt disoriented for a moment, surely this couldn’t be happening?

When Harry only looked at Dean in muted horror, Dean shifted his gaze to Voldemort. His former classmate looked at the alien in appreciating manner – so, so wrong Dean– and promptly said, “Hey! I’m a friend of Harry’s, who are you?”

Voldemort looked at Dean with bored indifference, his now dark eyes flickered over to Harry as if to say; Announce myself for one of you lowly humans is beneath me, so introduce me in appropriate fashion. 

Or at least it was what Harry believed that condescending look meant_._

Perhaps it was sign of just how overwhelmed Harry felt that his first thought was that he couldn’t possibly introduce him as Voldemort, because that name sounded ridiculous. Dean might even think the alien was a stripper or something if one also considered the odd armor-like garment Voldemort was wearing.

And it was with that strange reasoning Harry said, “Tom...this is Tom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing while I'm sick feels so odd, but I hope this came out well? Please let me now:D Thank you very much for all the support so far!!!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by a tumblr post, it just seemed like a very fun idea. Let me know what you think! There is nothing I love more than feedback. And kudos and comments makes my day :D


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